


Playing Villain

by Jennypen



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, shance week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 19:02:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8545471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennypen/pseuds/Jennypen
Summary: Shance week Day 2 - Hero/Villain.





	

“My Lord Zarkon.”

One knee on the floor, head dipped. As it should be. Obedience, deference.

“Report, Commander.”

Commander Rylak’s impassivity slipped; when Zarkon looked again he saw he was almost bursting with excitement. Good news, then.

“We have captured two of the paladins.”

Well. That _was_ good news.

“Go on.” Zarkon overlooked the smile the broke across his Commander’s face; it was justified.

“As my Lord wishes. The Black and Blue paladin are ours, as are their lions. We identified the energy signature anomolies from the collapsed Altean wormhole. Two were stronger than the others; the Black and Blue lions were together on a deserted mining colony. We encountered little resistance; they were weak.”

_Tch_. “As expected. Disappointing. It would seem that Voltron is no longer the threat it once was. Voltron desperate, to have chosen such fragile paladins.”

“It is as you say, my Lord. One of them is the Champion.”

_Interesting_. 

“Commander Rylak, I will ask you not to give credence to the preposterous name given by the other pathetic prisoners at the Arena.”

Rylak’s head dropped instantly and the smile was wiped off his face. Good. He recognised his own misstep. There was yet hope. It did not matter that the title was given by Haggar - blind obedience was what Zarkon desired above all else.

“I apologise, my Lord.”

Zarkon was silent for a moment, considering. “The Champion is the pretender Black Paladin, correct?”

If Rylak noticed that Zarkon used a term he had just forbidden, he gave no sign of it. “Yes, Lord Zarkon. He is with the Druids as he was gravely injured.” As he spoke, a minute tic in his cheek gave away his tension.

“Perhaps you would like to enlighten me as to the nature of these injuries?”

Rylak’s shoulders hiked up a little bit; he was afraid. “On arrival to the abandoned colony we found a series of traps surrounding a cave where the energy signatures were coming from. Both of the lions were there. The Black paladin fought and a number of soldiers were killed.”

Zarkon said nothing; Rylak swallowed and continued.

“The Blue paladin was not conscious - the witch Haggar estimates he was hurt in the crash landing on the planet. The Black paladin fought desperately to protect him but we were stronger.”

_Ah_. “And greater in number, doubtless.”

“Yes, sir. The lions have erected their particle barriers; we have brought them to the storage bays but I fear we will not have much more success beyond that of the Red lion.”

“Indeed.”

Rylak swallowed. “What would you ask of me, my Lord?”

Zarkon considered the question for a moment. “You say... the pretender Black paladin was gravely injured protecting the Blue paladin?”

“Yes, Lord Zarkon.”

“Summon Haggar.”

A pause. “Sire, she is still treating the Blue Paladin-“

“Now.”

Rylak’s boots clipped stiffly as his heels met. “Yes, my Lord.”

* * *

 

Haggar responded swiftly - her power was infinite but she knew her place. What was not expected was the blue bubble following behind her. A small form floated inside; clearly, the Blue paladin’s condition had been more critical than he had realised, if she was unwilling to leave him behind to answer Zarkon’s summons.

“Lord Zarkon,” she greeted, bowing.

“Haggar,” he acknowledged. “I understand you have been treating our acquisitions.”

“Yes. The Champion has been treated and will wake in a few hours; his injuries were numerous but easily resolved. The Blue Paladin,” she said, gesturing behind her, “Was not so straightforward. The crash from the wormhole harmed his brain - if Rylak had not found them he would have been dead within a day or so.”

Her voice showed emotion; displeasure. Zarkon’s eyes narrowed on her, but she stood impassive. She was strong - this was why Zarkon kept her by his side. She did not fear him, but her fear was unnecessary - her respect was unquestioned.

“You would rather him alive?”

“He is a true Blue paladin, my Lord Zarkon, but he is young. His heart is open, he has not yet learned to guard it. The Champion killed nineteen soldiers to keep him safe. That bond is far more useful with both alive.”

It was not often that Zarkon smiled, but he felt it happening now. He stood and descended the dais steps, approaching the glowing ball. The human inside was small; smaller than the Champion. His hollowed face was expressive, but all of the Blue paladins were emotive little beasts - it was their nature, and their function.

“As always, your judgement serves us well. How long before he can be used?”

Now able to attend to her patient without turning her back to Zarkon, Haggar shifted and held her hands up. The bubble shone brighter for a moment; the boy inside tensed and arched, every muscle briefly flexing. His mouth opened and throat moved with a cry that was swallowed by the thick gel surrounding him.

“Three cycles.”

Zarkon nodded. Three cycles was nothing.

“Thank you. Keep the Champion isolated. When the Blue Paladin is ready, inform me.”

“Of course, Sire.”

Zarkon waved a hand in dismissal. By the time he was re-seated on his throne, she was gone; the bubble a fading sight in her wake. He pushed a button on the arm. 

“Begin readying the prototype.”

* * *

 

Nothing, and then everything, all at once - every sensation on full alert for an instant before being dulled. The world was hazy and tinged with blue, which looked so strange that it took Lance a moment to realise that he couldn’t breathe. His sluggish mind finally processed that he was surrounded by a blueish goo, setting the nerve endings in his skin alight with sensation. It was _everywhere_ \- his ears, muffling sound, his eyes, blurring what little he could see and his mouth, his throat - no air, he had no air! He thrashed, movements slow in the thick gel, panic growing.

_‘Calm yourself, young Paladin. You can breathe the amnios.’_

The voice came from inside his head, and that was enough to shock him; belatedly, he recognised the voice as vaguely familiar.

_‘You were mortally injured but you have been healed by our mercy. Patience. You are ready to walk again.’_

There was a soft sucking sound, and Lance felt the liquid around him being to swirl. He was being pulled gently downwards, and he tilted his body until his legs were lowermost - his vision began to clear as the sphere of fluid around him thinned and he was freed, standing on his own two legs. The first lungful of air burned and his heart pounded in his ears for a moment, but after a brief coughing fit, he raised his head and wished he could go back to floating asleep.

“The Blue lion always did make fine choices,” Zarkon boomed, and Haggar chuckled next to him. He inclined his head toward her and she nodded, leaving them alone.

Lance had never been so frightened in his life - Keith had faced off against Zarkon but he’d been _in his Lion_ and _still_ lost. One on one, weaponless and weakened, Lance stood less than zero chance.

This seemed to amuse Zarkon, because he laughed, and if Lance had been frightened before, he was terrified now. “Little Paladin, I will not harm you.”

“Yeah, right,” Lance spat, before clamping a hand over his mouth. He hadn’t meant to speak; hadn’t meant to make any move that could potentially end his life at the hands of a tyrannical dictator.

“You are wise not to trust, though it goes against your nature, I should imagine.”

_Huh?_ “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying humans are dumb and trusting or that I’m just particularly stupid because Zarkon, my man, I’ll have you know I’m having, like, the weirdest day right now so you’re gonna have to be a little less cryptic and a lot more talky-telly.”

Zarkon’s smile widened - and how could he even _do_ that without lips? - and Lance shrank back slightly.

“I can see why the Champion fought to protect you.”

_Shiro!_ The word ‘fought’ was worrying - Lance remembered nothing after entering the wormhole next to Zarkon’s base. What had happened afterwards?

His confusion must have been obvious. “You crashed on an isolated planet. Your leader crashed with you. When we found you, he fought to protect you. What... a hero.”

_That’s Shiro! The pilot of the Kerberos mission. That guy’s my hero!_

Of course Shiro had tried to save him. There were many words to describe the kind of person Shiro was, but the word hero summed them all up easily. Selfless, brave and kind, Shiro was the best of humanity. He meant so much more to Lance than anyone else, but that wasn’t for anyone beyond them to know, not yet. It was still too new, too fresh and unknown. 

If they ever even saw each other again.

Lance stood up straighter, more determined. “What have you done with Shiro?”

“Your little playmate is safe, for now. He played the sacrificial hero all too well but I am kind and reward dedication, even if it is misguided - were it not for our intervention, his ‘protection’ would have seen you die. You live only because I willed it, and made it so.”

Lance went still. Shiro was alive - that was the important part of that. The rest he picked apart to mean he’d been hurt badly enough that Shiro hadn’t been able to heal him with any of the equipment in Blue or Black, when the Galra had found them. It almost sounded like Zarkon was trying to convince him that Shiro would have let him die - perhaps that was the case, but Shiro was right to do so. 

Knowing what Galra captivity was like, better death by his lover’s side than a nameless part in a massacre at the Arena.

Lance’s stance became determined and he stared Zarkon in the eye. “Okay so I’m kinda lost here, maybe you can bring me up to speed. You wanna get rid of Voltron, or maybe control Voltron? I don’t even know. So you get hold of two Paladins and for some reason you... keep... them.. alive.” It occurred to Lance, then, that he knew nothing of Blue - he stretched out his thoughts, trying to feel for her presence. All he felt was the brushing of her barrier - she was here, somewhere, but retreated behind her own defenses. Lance vaguely remembering Keith admitting that Red hadn’t responded to him when he first found her, either - he’d had to pull a suicidal stunt before the Lion had decided he was suitable as her Paladin.

Perhaps, then, Lance would have to show Blue he was still him - if he could.

“Your usefulness is not boundless. Do not take liberties with my patience, little Paladin - the Champion lives now at my discretion.”

Oh. So it was like _that_.

Zarkon did not wait for a reply - he closed the gap between them and walked past Lance slightly, resting a giant clawed hand on his shoulder. “I see you understand me. Good. Your lover played the hero for you - it is time for you to return the favour. I am not pointlessly cruel - your adaptability is something I desire, but I will reward you in turn and keep your Shiro... untouched.”

The slight pause before “untouched” sent a shiver through Lance - it had so many meanings and he wanted none of them for Shiro.

Zarkon made it sound like he had a choice, but of course there wasn’t - Lance would do anything for Shiro, _his_ Shiro. He didn’t respond - he didn’t have to.

“Good. I look forward to our partnership, little hero.”

* * *

God, Zarkon’s mind was _horrifying_. Cold, black, like the endless void of space. Strapped into the heart of a purple lion - what was it about lions? - Lance didn’t even struggle, knowing what was being asked of him. Haggar had inserted a plug into the back of his neck, and after the white-hot pain had dissipated he’d felt it - the first tentative touch of Zarkon’s consciousness. The Emperor was seated at the helm of the Galra’s own version of a Lion, but far, far larger. He felt Zarkon pulled back, and Lance almost breathed a sigh of relief, until his mind was breached by the slamming force of Zarkon’s will. His eyes flew open and Lance _screamed_ as the sheer darkness of a ten thousand year old being forced its way inside him. 

The world went white, and when it returned, he saw through Zarkon’s eyes - across the gulf of space, he saw a tiny speck in the distance, recognisable immediately as the Castle of Lions, and then it was too late, too much, too _wrong_.

_‘Your lover played the hero for you.’_

He should have died, and let Shiro die, but Lance was too foolish, and now it was too late. With a Paladin’s quintessence, Zarkon was unstoppable. All he’d wanted to do was save Shiro - play the hero, keep them alive, find a way out, but he’d been wrong - Shiro had been willing to let them both die rather than be captured, and he’d been right.

Shiro, strong and true, had been the real hero - and Lance, weak and naive, was the real villain, it seemed.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [cosu's art](http://hardlynotnever.tumblr.com/post/152407018000/a-vague-continuation-of-the-doodle-of-lance).


End file.
